


A Lovely Thing About Christmas

by Arete20



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, I did not plan the appearance of the Medieval Castle, Lancelot and Merlin feel sad about their late parents it's a bit angsty, Lancelot is a sweetheart and insecure, M/M, Merlin and Lancelot are nerds wait until you see how they decorate their Christmas tree, Merlin is a nerd, Modern AU, You don't have to have seen Detroit Evolution to understand this fic, but so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arete20/pseuds/Arete20
Summary: Lancelot and Merlin rent a cabin to spend Christmas together. It's the perfect holiday getaway for the both of them. Lancelot's hiding a secret though: he's planning to propose on Christmas day, if he can summon the self-confidence to do it.Features references to Christmas music and Christmas movies, a nerdy Christmas tree, a dinner party, and a Medieval castle.
Relationships: Lancelot/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	A Lovely Thing About Christmas

**A lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.** – Garrison Keillor, _Leaving Home  
_

 **Christmas is like candy; it slowly melts in your mouth sweetening every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.** – Richelle E. Goodrich, _Smile Anyway_

The trees that lined the street were blanketed in white. The pastures that they had driven by had also been white; it was Lancelot’s least favourite thing about winter. The way the world bled out its colour and turned an all encompassing white. Merlin, however, thought that was ridiculous. Merlin liked the winter-liked building snowmen with his young cousins, liked donning bulky coats and scarves and mittens and watching his breath become visible in the cold December air. Merlin never complained about the cold, though he never shut up about the heat in July. He didn’t even seem to mind the shortening days. Lancelot couldn’t understand it, but he loved Merlin more than he loved anything and seeing his happiness helped lift the dreary mood that the winter holidays always seemed to leave him in.

Lancelot didn’t know why winter bothered him so much. Maybe it was the difference between the cold in Britain compared to the warmth of Chilean winters. While winters in Chile were rainy, they weren’t cold. They weren’t white. Maybe it was missing his parents. His Mamá and Papá had loved Christmas. The holiday seemed empty without them, even though he now had Merlin to celebrate it with. And Merlin, bless him, was currently singing along to All I Want for Christmas is you at the top of his lungs. It was hard to feel too sad, sitting next to his embarrassingly exuberant boyfriend.

Lancelot also had a reason to be exuberant. The next time they stopped at a red light, he slipped his hand into his pocket and held the ring box. He knew it was a risk, and also pathetic, to be carrying the ring he was going to propose to Merlin with in his pocket. But it grounded him, knowing it was there. It helped him to not chicken out of it. Which was something he had been tempted to do multiple times over the past month. If it had not been for his friends, he probably would have. He still could remember the way that their usually sweet friend Gwen had glared at him.

“You’re not questioning whether you want to get married,” she had scolded him in the middle of the jewellery store. “If you were, I’d tell you not to propose. You want to marry Merlin. I know you two have talked about it. Lance, you have to stop doubting yourself and take the step that will make you and Merlin happy. Enough stalling!”

Gwen was right. Lancelot had wanted to marry Merlin within months of dating him. They had been together for three years now. They had graduated university together, supported each other through their respective job searches, had late movie nights together to distract themselves from the anxieties of being proper adults who owned their own flats and cooked themselves dinner and everything. It hadn’t been perfect, but Lancelot’s Mamá used to like to say that the perfect was the enemy of the good. He and Merlin were _good_ together.

Merlin turned to him after the song ended. He was wearing the ridiculous orange winter hat that he knew made Lancelot laugh.

“Alright?” he asked. “Do you want me to take over driving? You’ve been driving for a few hours now.”

“We’re almost there,” Lancelot smiled. He liked driving, and it distracted him from the nerves that were constantly churning his stomach. “You just keep singing along to sappy Christmas music.”

“I knew you loved my singing voice,” Merlin grinned, and promptly started belting out Last Christmas purposefully off tune.

Lancelot groaned.

They arrived at their destination half an hour later. Merlin had always wanted to rent a cabin for Christmas, to get away from the city and have a cosy holiday for them both. Lancelot had made it happen this year, and they had rented a cabin in a rural town called Camelot. The GPS led them to their cabin and Merlin wasted no time bounding out of the car and stretching his limbs. Lancelot groggily stepped out and did the same. They had been travelling for five hours with only a few breaks to eat and visit the restroom. Merlin grabbed some of their bags from the trunk and Lancelot moved to help him.

The cabin was charming. Small, but with enough space for the two of them not to feel cramped. It was rustic. They had brought lights and other Christmas decorations and hoped to buy a tree from a nearby market. Decorating the tree with Merlin was a Christmas tradition that Lancelot enjoyed. This year they were going to put Baby Yoda on top of the tree. Merlin was a nerd.

And they both had a crush on Pedro Pascal.

They settled in pretty quickly. Merlin insisted on putting up some rudimentary decorations.

“This place is an urgent need of some Christmas cheer,” he quipped, putting up some lights while Lancelot rolled his eyes and sipped his tea. When he was done, he plopped down next to Lancelot with a sigh. Then he nudged Lancelot with his elbow, and did it twice more before Lancelot gave in and looked at his very annoying boyfriend. Merlin’s bright eyes, full of mischief, darted up. Lancelot followed their gave and saw that Merlin was holding some mistletoe above their heads. Lancelot laughed, and leaned forward to kiss Merlin. As if he ever needed an excuse.

An hour later they were settled in front of Lancelot’s laptop watching a sappy Christmas movie on Netflix that starred Vanessa Hudgens.

“That is nowhere near what a Medieval knight would behave like,” Lancelot griped, while Merlin giggled beside him.

“You picked this movie to annoy me, didn’t you?” Lancelot accused, narrowing his eyes. Merlin shrugged, and passed him some more popcorn. The movie went on for a few moments before Merlin leaned his head against his shoulder.

“I’m not going overboard, am I?” He asked quietly. Lancelot reached up and stroked the back of Merlin’s neck comfortingly.

“Overboard with what, love?” “Christmas,” Merlin answered, gesturing at the decorated cabin. “I know I get excited about whatever holiday is coming up, but I know that Christmas is hard for you. I know you miss your parents. I try and keep it cheerful for you, but I know it can get annoying.”

“No,” said Lancelot softly. “I love that you love Christmas. And winter. I love your decorations and the Christmas music you play and these clichéd movies that you make me watch. I don’t want you to stop, especially not for my sake. It helps. And I know why Christmas means a lot to you. That’s just as important as it being a hard time for me is.”

“Okay,” said Merlin. “But you can tell me to stop. And I don’t mind when you’re feeling sad or you want to be alone. I haven’t put any decorations in the bedroom, so you’ll have a space to get away.”

Lancelot’s Mamá and Papá had died in a car crash when he was twenty years old. The last time he had seen them was during the Christmas holidays when he had taken a trip from London to their hometown Santiago where he had grown up. It had been a happy few weeks celebrating Christmas and ringing in the New Year with his parents. Then he had never seen them again. Lancelot swallowed back the lump in his throat and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s head. The ache had receded with time, and Lancelot knew that his parents would want him to look forward, not backwards. And so Lancelot tried his best to celebrate Christmas as he had before. Choosing Christmas to propose to Merlin was part of that. If only he managed to pluck up the courage to do it. He slipped an arm around Merlin and tried to silence the persistent voice in his head that chanting _you’re not good enough for him._

The next day they set off to buy the tree. As they carried it to the front door of their cabin, their neighbours caught sight of them and came up to introduce themselves.

“Hello, I’m Nines Reed,” said the lean one with brown hair and cheerful eyes. “This is my husband Gavin. We’re pleased to meet you.” Both Nines and Gavin smiled as they shook hands with Merlin and Lancelot. Merlin, who was always friendly, started to engage them in small talk and proceeded to invite them over for dinner. Lancelot smiled, remembering how Merlin had talked his ear off the first time they met.

It was during their university days. Lancelot was studying History while Merlin was an English student. Lancelot had been reading a textbook when a scrawny, beautiful student had sat beside him, his table being the only one available. Lancelot had smiled at him and started to engage him in small talk, only to spend the next two hours conversing with Merlin about everything from his favourite football teams to his obsession with Medieval history, which Merlin shared. They had become fast friends, and months later they had become something more after Merlin had shyly asked him out on a date. Merlin had always been brave like that.

Nines and Gain agreed to come to dinner, and so they carried the tree into their house and set themselves to decorating it.

“This is one of my favourite things to do,” Merlin said, hanging up the tinsel. “It’s peaceful.”

“It is,” Lancelot agreed.

“Mum and I used to have so much fun,” Merlin smiled ruefully. “We couldn’t afford to go all out on the tree, or the decorations. But we made what we could at home and she always saved to buy me a present from Santa Claus.”

“She’d have been proud of you,” said Lancelot.

“I hope so,” said Merlin softly, before a brief period of silence stretched between them.

While Christmas made Lancelot miss his parents, it made Merlin feel more close to his mother.

They finished decorating the tree, and Merlin stood on a stool to place Baby Yoda at his place on top of it. There were ornaments related to their favourite shows throughout mixed in with the traditional baubles-a TARDIS, a few lightsabers, and a small model of the star ship Enterprise.

Lancelot was a bit of a nerd, too.

Smiling, he accompanied Merlin to the kitchen where they set about making dinner. Lancelot liked to make empanadas for guests since it was his specialty. Merlin had grown to love Chilean food in the course of their relationship. Lancelot turned to look at Merlin who was whisking the egg yolks, humming “Jingle Bells” to himself, wearing an apron that said “Kiss the Chef” on it. It was something he had seen so many times, yet his heart still did somersaults. He reached for his cell phone and took a picture. Merlin turned to him and made funny faces as Lancelot continued to take pictures and laugh. They mixed the egg yolks with the dough, kneaded it, put it in the fridge for an hour and then made the fillings. At one point, Merlin came up and embraced Lancelot from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

This was it. This was why Lancelot wanted to propose. So he could have this for the rest of his life.

A few hours later they had made dinner, laid the table, cleaned up, and waited for the doorbell to ring. Lancelot was giving Merlin a foot massage, knowing that he would be feeling a bit anxious.

“They aren’t going to hate you,” Lancelot assured him. “You charmed them today.”

“I probably coerced them into agreeing,” said Merlin. “We just met and I invite them over for dinner? Who does that?”

“Merlin,” said Lancelot patiently. “They wouldn’t have agreed to come if they hadn’t wanted to. There were a million ways to politely decline. You were thinking they seemed like good people and you wanted to make friends. That’s what you do. You connect to people and then work yourself into a tizzy afterwards worried that they all hate you. When no one could ever hate you, you’re too charming for that. Honestly, I wish you’d go easier on yourself.”

“You’re one to talk,” Merlin sighed, giving him an appraising look. “We’ve been together for three years. And you still think you don’t deserve me.”

“I don’t,” Lancelot protested. “You’ve the bravest person I’ve ever met. The kindest. I’m just Lancelot.”

“Exactly,” Merlin smiled. “You’re just Lancelot. Who knows everything about Arthurian legend, who puts everyone’s well being above your own, who writes angry letters to politicians and volunteers for LGBT rights groups. There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with.”

Lancelot looked down. He never knew what to say when people complimented him. He used to try and deflect compliments, saying things like “I’m not so sure that’s true.” But Merlin had been adamant that he stop that. Knowing that he was uncomfortable, Merlin just leaned over and kissed his cheek.

The doorbell rang. Merlin shot Lancelot an apprehensive look.

“You’ll be fine,” laughed Lancelot. “Go open the door and greet our guests.”

Nines had a warm smile as he handed Merlin a bottle of red wine and thanked him for the invite. Lancelot hadn’t paid much attention to Gavin that morning, but the man had a friendly smile as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. He looked a bit guarded, but Lancelot thought that he must be one of those people who relax more in the company of people they know and trusted.

“It was wonderful to see another gay couple,” Nines said as they took their seats on the sofas. “Gavin and I were worried we would be the only ones when we chose to rent a cottage here.”

“So were we,” said Merlin. “I know this area trends white, cis, straight, and voted for Brexit. But Lancelot and I decided that if we want to go away to a cabin for Christmas, we get to do that.”

“That’s what we thought,” nodded Gavin. Then he gestured towards their Christmas tree. “Is Baby Yoda going to stare at us this whole evening?”

The ice properly broken, they broke out in laughter. Nines and Gavin were good company. Nines could be as talkative as Merlin, and Lancelot suspected that the two of them would become fast friends. Gavin was still slightly closed off, but he opened up as time went on. They learned that Gavin was a family lawyer, and Nines was a high school teacher. Nines also loved gardening, but Gavin had a black thumb and would kill a plant in a matter of days if left alone with them. They were a sweet couple, familiar in the way that happily married couples are. They exchanged glances throughout the night, having non verbal conversations meant just for the two of them. Once, while Merlin got drinks from the kitchen and Lancelot wandered in from a bathroom break, he heard Gavin fondly tell Nines he hated him, to which Nines smiled brightly.

“You love me,” he laughed, and gave his husband a quick kiss.

Lancelot felt his chest compress. _This,_ he thought for the second time that day, _is why I want to propose._ He wanted to go to dinner as husbands; he wanted that domestic happiness. He wanted to know that he and Merlin belonged with each other the way that Gavin and Nines seemed to, he wanted it made official with rings and certificates. He smiled, and sat back down on the couch as Merlin came back with a tray of drinks.

Dinner went by quickly. The conversation flowed easily, and everyone liked the empanadas and the Reeds had brought excellent wine. They talked about their favourite movies and shows, and Merlin told them about how he liked to paint. They shared their coming out stories. Lancelot shared how his Mamá and Papá hadn’t batted an eyelid when he came out as bisexual and feels warm as he remembered his Mamá sewing him a scarf in the colours of the bi flag to support him. He still had it tucked away to wear at Pride or when he missed his parents.

Before he knows it, they’ve finished dinner and they clear the table. Gavin insisted on helping Merlin wash the dishes and Lancelot stole out for a quick breath of air, shrugging on his coat. It was a cold night, the wind rough against his face. But it was quiet. He let out a breath and felt peaceful. Settled.

The door creaked open and he turned to see Nines.

“Do you mind?” Nines asked, giving Lancelot a tentative smile. “I wanted to see what you were up to, and Merlin and Gavin are debating whether a kit kat is eaten best in one go or whether it’s best to break off the bars and eat them individually.”

Lancelot snorted.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and motioned for Nines to stand beside him.

“Having a good Christmas so far?” Nines asked. Lancelot didn’t know why, but he felt comfortable in his company. He hoped that maybe tonight could be the beginning of a friendship between them. But in any case, it’d be hard to forget the couple they met and shared a holiday dinner with the year he and Merlin got engaged.

That is, if Merlin said yes.

“Yes,” Lancelot said simply. “It’s been good. At least so far.”

“So far?” Nines questioned, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow. Lancelot took a deep breath and decided to go for it. He wanted to talk about it, to share the worries that weighed on him.

“I’m proposing to Merlin on Christmas Day,” he said. “I have it all planned out.”

“Congratulations,” Nines beamed, giving Lancelot’s shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fantastic! I’m sure he’ll say yes, Gavin and I could tell he’s head over heels for you.”

Lancelot smiled.

“We’ve talked about marriage before,” he said. “It’s something that Merlin wants. And I want too. I can’t say I’m not nervous that he’ll refuse, but those are my nerves talking.”

“You’re worried about something.” Nines was perceptive. Lancelot would give him that.

“I just wonder if there wasn’t anyone better out there,” Lancelot shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m what he deserves. He’s-he’s the best person in the world. I want him to be happy more than anything.”

Nines was quiet. After a few moments, he looked at Lancelot and smiled.

“I used to wonder the same thing,” he said. “About Gavin. I’m ace, and it took me a long time to figure that out. Even when I found the label, I had this internalized hatred of myself. I felt broken, not good enough, inadequate. You name it, I felt it. I thought Gavin deserved someone who could be everything to him.”

“How did you get over it?” It was Lancelot’s turn to give Nines a squeeze on the shoulder. He felt the other man exhale.

“Gavin,” he smiled. “He felt the same in a lot of ways. He was closed off, back then, never liked being vulnerable. He always felt like he had to have this mask and show no weakness. I thought that he could never want me. But he did. He loved me. He wouldn’t have changed me for the world, and I knew that I’d never want him to change who he is.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Lancelot softly.

“It is,” Nines smiled. “Would you want Merlin to change who he is?”

“Never,” Lancelot swore. “He gets nervous, sometimes, about what people think. It’s been awhile since it happened, but there are times when he convinces himself I secretly hate him. It breaks my heart.”

“And it must break his to know you feel self conscious. Don’t undervalue yourself. He wants to be with you. You have to trust that.”

Lancelot was silent for a moment. He remembered his Mamá and Papá together. They had always been on the same page; they had always been joined at the hip. He’d catch them laughing together, and his Papá bringing home flowers and making dinner and telling his wife that he loved her each and everyday. They knew they belonged together, they had known it within months of meeting each other. It didn’t matter that Mamá was stubborn, or that Papá had bouts where he wanted to do nothing but read all day, too worn out to face the world. They loved each other. They loved Lancelot. That love had filled all their Christmases together and had made the bleak and white winter full of warmth. After they had died, Lancelot felt the absence of that love everyday, though the weight of receded as time went on. Maybe, he thought, he and Merlin could fill up their Christmas with that love again, and it wouldn’t matter if Lancelot weren’t perfect. After all, perfect was the enemy of the good. And he and Merlin were _good._

“Let’s go in,” he told Nines. “I want to see if you can beat Merlin at scrabble, because he always wins.”

Merlin won scrabble as usual. They exchanged numbers with the Reeds, promising to keep in touch. Watching Merlin hug both Nines and Gavin, Lancelot knew they had made new friends. After waving their guests off, Merlin turned to Lancelot with a smile. He put his arms around Lancelot’s shoulders and kissed him, before pressing his forehead to Lancelot’s with a quiet, content sigh.

When Christmas morning came, it was sunny. Merlin had baked gingerbread cookies the day before and they ate them for breakfast, indulging their inner six-year-olds.

Merlin gave Lancelot a portrait he had drawn of his parents. There was a lump in his throat as Lancelot gazed at his parents. His _Mamá y Papá._ Merlin had done Mamá’s black wavy hair just right, and the beauty of her brown eyes. His Papá wore his favourite striped shirt and had that easygoing smile. He had used Lancelot’s favourite picture of the two of them, but somehow his painting made them look even more real. As if they were present. Unable to speak, Lancelot put his arms around Merlin and held him tight.

Awhile later, Merlin was fidgeting. He wanted to know what his gift was, but he wasn’t going to ask. Lancelot let him fidget for half an hour longer, before briskly telling him that they were going for a drive. Merlin looked like he had a thousand questions but held them back. Lancelot drove them away from the cabins and the marketplace, going slightly out of Camelot. Beside him, Merlin belted out _Little Drummer Boy_ but Lancelot could tell the suspense was killing him. Finally, they pulled up at their site.

Merlin gasped and turned to Lancelot, his eyes wide.

“You brought us to a castle?” He squealed, and Lancelot laughed at his expression.

“It’s from around the 11th century,” said Lancelot. “I thought you’d like to explore it.”

“I’d read about it,” said Merlin. “Portchester castle. It has Roman walls and a Medieval keep. But we’re here for Christmas, will they even be open?”

“Reduced hours,” Lancelot smiled. “We have time to explore.”

Merlin’s expression brightened, and he bounded out of the car. They explored the castle as long as they could, holding hands and huddling together for warmth. Lancelot told Merlin about how Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, and Queen Elizabeth I had all spent time there. They looked at the exhibits. Merlin’s eyes were bright.

Eventually, the castle closed and they stepped out. Lancelot didn’t lead Merlin back to the car, however, and instead they went for a walk around the grounds. The coast was nearby. A Church was holding Christmas service. The trees had been decorated, and as the sun set they lit up with a cacophony of colours.

Lancelot knew it was time. He stopped walking, and turned to face Merlin.

“Did you have a good time, my love?” He asked, looking into Merlin’s eyes.

“The best time,” Merlin breathed. “Thank you so much Lancelot. It was the best present I could have imagined. You know I love places like this.”

“I know,” Lancelot chucked. “Its part of the reason you fell for me, isn’t it?”

Merlin laughed.

“I love you,” he said, going on tiptoes to give Lancelot a kiss.

Lancelot took a deep breath.

“Merlin,” he said. “This was your Christmas present, but it’s also…I brought you here because I love you deeply. I love you more than I could say.” Lancelot took a deep breath, and took Merlin’s other hand in his own. Merlin was smiling at him, but Lancelot shook his head when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Let me,” he said, giving Merlin’s hands a squeeze. “I have something important to say. My Mamá used to say that when I met the one who made me smile on my worst days, I should never let them go. After I met you, my love, I knew that was you. When you’re with me, I feel strong. And you push me to be better each and every day. I can’t imagine my life without you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

Merlin was looking at Lancelot with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe it. Lancelot smiled, and hoped his face didn’t betray his anxiety. His heart was drumming in his chest, his stomach was queasy. Merlin was beautiful. Lancelot took a deep breath. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this properly.

Lancelot sunk to one knee and smiled at Merlin’s gasp. He took out the ring box from his pocket and snapped it open, revealing the silver ring.

“You’re the best part of me,” Lancelot continued. “I brought you here today because I know you share my love for Medieval history, but also because I wanted you to know how great you are, great enough to be part of the great history of this castle and this land. You’re kind. Brave. When I look at you, I think of myself. The man I want to be, and you make me believe I can get there. And I want to, with you at my side. Merlin, will you marry me?”

Merlin looked down at him, a million emotions seemed to be stirring in his eyes. Lancelot’s stomach plummeted.

“You want to marry me?” Merlin asked, voice hoarse. “I…”

“I’m down on one knee, love,” said Lancelot. “In the middle of winter in front of a Medieval castle. Of course I want to marry you. More than anything.”

“Oh.” Merlin looked at him for a moment, then his face broke out into a smile.

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “A million times, yes!”

He pulled Lancelot to his feet, took his face in his hands, and kissed him. A few people who had stopped to watch applauded, and they broke apart, bashful. Then they were laughing.

“I love you so much,” said Merlin. Lancelot took off Merlin’s mitten and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered into Merlin’s ear.

Around them, the world was blanketed in white. But Lancelot didn’t mind that anymore. There was love enough between them both to put colour into their world. Merlin loved him. Merlin wanted to marry him. He might not be perfect, but he’d be the best he could be. That was enough. They were enough. He kissed his fiancé and listened to the Church bells ring.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This fic was written as a secret santa gift to a friend of mine. That's why Nines and Gavin make an appearance-as I said in the tags, you didn't have to see the movie to understand this fic, but I highly recommend watching Detroit Evolution on youtube. It's a fantastic movie, and it's very gay-it also has sapphic women of colour and ace representation!! 
> 
> I should note that Camelot in this fic is obviously fictional, which means it's nowhere near a Medieval castle. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I know things are tough this year, but hopefully you can still celebrate. I'm thinking of all of you and sending you happy thoughts.


End file.
